A Shifting Dynamic
by Raouldehadleyfraser
Summary: Raoul de Chagny was the last person on earth that Erik had expected to appear before him down in his lair, his eyes wild and terrified - though not of the Phantom. Erik/Raoul - not exactly slash because I feel really awkward writing all the icky details. But they're certainly going to care for each other. Plenty of Raoul whump.
1. Chapter 1

Raoul de Chagny was the last person on earth that Erik had expected to appear before him down in his lair, his eyes wild and terrified - though not of the Phantom. This puzzled Erik. The Vicompte merely stood before him in the darkness, panting, breathless, as if he had run a marathon. Why should de Chagny - with that strange pleading look in his eyes - when he had everything that Erik could ever dream of a man wanting. When he had Christine. What could he seek in the presence of the Phantom that he could not find with his beloved chorus girl? Erik could find only one answer to that.

"Are you so eager to die, Vicompte, that you will fly with eyes open into the waiting jaws of the Angel of Death? Do you wish to feel again the rough caresses of my lasso?" He smirked at the boy, but it faded when the boy only stared at him, stared _through_ him, and nodded. There was nothing in those eyes. As if all the hope and vanity of youth had at the very once been ripped from his soul and left dripping blood in his heart. And some part of Erik, despite knowing that this is a man he should hate, feels pity for him instead. Feels for him without knowing, without understanding why. He wanted to ask who needed to die to put light back into the child's eyes, to rid him of that awful expression. This train of thought startled him - why should he care what misfortunes had befallen the fop? Should he not be rejoicing?

"What is the reason for your presence here, fop?" He demanded, furious with the boy for coming, and furious with himself for feeling sympathy for his rival. Raoul recoiled involuntarily at the tone of the Phantom's voice, and cowered, instinctively raising his arms to shield his face. Erik noticed with surprise that the boy was shivering in fear. This was not the same man that had left with Christine only a week ago. He changed tactic, making his voice sound as soothing and non-threatening as possible. "Raoul, child - what has become of you?"

Raoul tried to answer, he truly did, but his mouth opened once, twice, three times, and still he could not bring himself to speak of what had befallen him. Instead, he slowly pulled off his shirt - Erik could see that it was painful for the boy to do so - to reveal a multitude of wounds of various depths. There were cuts and slashes, obviously made by knives, but the worst of them seemed animal in origin. In the darkness and in his surprise, Erik had not noticed the dirtied shirt, or the metallic scent of blood, but now that he did see, he could not stifle a gasp of complete horror. Raoul winced as he let the shirt fall to the ground.

"It must look pretty bad if even the Opera Ghost is disgusted." His laugh was hollow. Erik watched him carefully.

"My god man. Were you thrown to a starving pack of wolves?" For that was the only explanation Erik could find for his injuries.

"That is not so far from the truth as to be a lie, my good monsieur." Raoul conceded. Erik stared at him in confusion. The boy's eyes grew serious and thoughtful, as though making a decision. He nodded to himself, though he looked anything but confident. "Phantom. I... I cannot see Christine again. Not now... not...not ever again." He spoke as though the words pained him, which Erik knew they did, for though he hated the boy, he could not deny the extent of his love. "it... there is... that is, I... it is simply too perilous." Erik could not follow the boy's frantic train of thought. Seeing that the boy was stressed and weak - he wobbled on his feet - Erik guided him to an armchair and sat him down, letting him settle himself and regain some of his composure.

"Why?" He asked, once the boy seemed relatively calm, "Are those who... attacked you still running loose? Do you fear they might returned and mean her harm? If that is the case I shall find them and kill them myself." Raoul held up a hand and shook his head, taking in a deep breath.

"No, monsieur, that is not the reason. I have to doubt you mean to try - but have no fear of _them_." The deadly glare in the boy's eyes was more than enough answer to what he could possibly mean. Erik raised an eyebrow, impressed. He didn't know the boy had it in him to kill.

"Monsieur Erik - I have called you, in the past, the very recent past, a monster. Please allow me to take from you that title, for it was mistakenly laid upon you." Erik could do nothing more than stare mutely at the boy, grimacing when Raoul shifted slightly and hissed in pain.

"Have you gone completely mad, Vicompte? What is it that you are trying to say, _boy?_" He demanding, lifting Raoul's face so their eyes met. He did not like what he found in them.

"I have not gone mad, Opera _Ghost_, I merely attest to the fact that such a title as monster, or perhaps better yet, _beast_, should be more suitably entrusted to _my_ keeping." That was what the feeling from before was, Erik realised. Empathy. But he still did not understand why.

"You make little sense, Vicompte." Raoul sighed, and grimaced as he leant against the back of the chair. Erik's sharp eyes did not miss this. The boy must have more injuries than he had thought.

"Any other might find this impossible to believe, but you I think will not immediately cry me a mad fool."

"Go on" Erik prompted gently, reaching out a hand to place on the boy's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, but the boy winced, so he removed the pressure. He had felt a long welt on the boy's back though. He had been whipped.

"I... you lived among the travelling folk for a time, did you not? I'm certain they had a fair share of legends, didn't they? Were there not stories of... of men who on a full moon, became terrible beasts. Like wolves, but worse. So much worse". The last sentence was spoken in a terrified whisper. Erik nodded.

"I saw one once... I watched them kill it." Realisation dawned on Erik as he looked back to the boy. The bite marks, the scratches. The look in his eyes. "Are you saying... that is... the ones who attacked you were...?" Raoul could not answer the Phantom, but buried his face in his hands and wept. Erik wanted to comfort him somehow, but the boy was not yet finished with his story.

"There were so many of them - five I think. They..." Raoul paused, glazing over the memory, "they pinned me down and... it felt like they were going to rip me apart, limb from limb, and eat me." Erik shivered at the very thought of it, imagining what it might feel like to be eaten alive.

"But they didn't. They suddenly stopped. And they sat in a circle. Watching, waiting, as the moon grew higher in the sky. Suddenly everything burned, the blood in my veins like molten lead, everything felt wrong, like claws pulling me apart in every direction-" Erik placed a hand to the boy's lips and suddenly pressed him very close to his chest. Raoul forgot about the pain of his injuries and just let the heaving sobs take over his entire being. Erik didn't know when he had decided that the boy was worth his pity, but if he hadn't already, those tears would have convinced him. He listened as the boy mumbled to himself.

"Why? Why me? Have I done something to deserve this? What have I done to earn this fate?" Erik knew that not long ago he would have rejoiced in such misfortune befalling the boy. But how could he, with this broken creature shivering in his arms - so trusting of their embrace. He watched as the boy poured both blood and tears. He could not muster any of the anger he had previously felt at even the mention of the Vicompte's name. He could not do as the boy asked. He would not end this... _angel_'s life.

"Why come to me, Vicompte? Now that I know this, now I know what has happened to you - how can you possibly think I could kill you?" _That I could murder an innocent child_, was his unspoken thought. Raoul looked up at him briefly, wondering at the Phantom's words, before again burying his face in the older man's shirt.

"I... I don't know. I wish I'd died that night. The night of Don Juan. Then, at the very least, I could have died a man - the tragic hero, perhaps, rather than... than _this_" he let go of Erik for a moment to gesture at himself. Erik shook his head, and put his arms gently around the boy, acutely aware of how much pain he must be in. The boy steadied his breathing, or attempted to - but Erik could still hear the threat of tears in his voice. "B...before I came here, I... I tried to... to take my own life. I jumped off a bridge into the Seine. But... I woke up on the shore. Still breathing. So I figured if I couldn't do it myself, I'd-" Erik placed his hand gently over the shivering boy's lips.

"That's enough" He told him softly, running his hand through the boy's hair in what he hoped was a calming gesture "No more of this talk", Raoul seemed to relax a little, but Erik cursed himself for not being able to comfort him better. It was not one of his more finely honed skills.

"But... but I'm- when I'm like _this_... how can you even bear to look at me? You touch me - why? Why do you stay? Why not send me away, rage at me? How can you even bear it?" Raoul was looking up at him with those pathetic, pleading blue eyes. Erik was horrified that one such as the Vicompte should have to feel this way - that had been _Erik_'s lot in life. It was not a fate meant for this boy. He knelt down so that he was staring into Raoul's eyes. The boy tried to look away, but Erik, lifted up his chin so that there was no escape from his scrutinizing gaze.

"Listen to me, Raoul, I beg of you - you are not to blame for this. None of it is your fault. None of it. Do you understand? You're not even really a man yet, are you? Just a frightened child" He let his voice take a melodious turn, as it would probably better soothe Raoul, put him more at ease. Raoul had gripped tightly to the sleeve of Erik's jacket - seeking something solid to anchor himself to the present with. Something familiar. "Just put Christine to the back of your mind for now. We will deal with that problem when we come to it. For now, what you need is rest. You will think of this place as your home from now on. Nothing can harm you with the Opera Ghost as your guardian - I will not let any harm befall you whilst you are under my care." Raoul stared at him, not quite understanding.

"But Monsieur - I would have thought that even appearing here at all would have been enough for you to want to kill me. I was not prepared for this. Not kindness. For why should a monster expect kindness?" Raoul laughed hollowly, and Erik allowed himself a wry smile. But Raoul suddenly became serious and morose again. "It is too dangerous for me to be alive. I could probably even kill you, Monsieur Ghost, if you were there when... when..." Tears flooded the boy's face as he once more held it in his hands. "Please M. Le Phantom. It is best if you just kill me." Erik did not know what to do, or how to deal with the boy in this state - how had the Daroga helped him when he no longer wished to live? He couldn't remember, so he would just have to do the best he could manage on his own. He wrapped his arms around that slight, skinny frame. He felt Raoul tense, and then relax into the embrace, still shivering terribly. Raoul took a deep breath. Erik smelled strong, and safe. He would be safe here.

"You must have been terrified, child." Erik whispered into the boy's hair. Raoul nodded.

"I was... I still am. Every time I close my eyes, they're there - taunting, laughing, grinning. I... I felt such a terrible rage when I... changed that. Oh god. I tore out their throats. With my teeth. My teeth. I just wanted to stop their laughter. I wanted it to stop." He broke down again, and Erik gently rocked him, trying to calm him.

"I nearly went to her, you know." Erik pulled away from Raoul to look at him, horrified. "I just had this instinct telling me to go home. But I didn't. I knew I couldn't trust that voice. But I almost went to her - in that god-awful hideous form, I nearly went to my Christine. Oh! But I cannot call her mine any longer. She has nothing to do with monsters. Perhaps I can ask for a parting kiss? Do you think she'd allow me even that kindness?" Raoul's laugh was tainted with insanity now. That was not a laugh which suited him. Erik had to stop this before it tore out the last of the boy's innocence. He shushed the boy until the ugly laughter subsided. At which point, Raoul continued as if the outburst had never happened, "But understand - if I'd lost control for just one moment. What do you think might have happened to Christine? To the woman we love?" He cast his eyes downward, ashamed that he could very well have caused harm to his fiancée .

Erik stood up abruptly, and paced away from the boy, moving to his organ. He was furious, and he took out his anger on the keys. Raoul watched, confused, and perhaps more than a little afraid. He sank into the chair, looking as small and submissive as he possibly could. Looking up, Erik saw that he had frightened the boy. He had not intended that. He was angry that such a thing could be done to the boy, because he had been too busy keeping an eye on Christine that night to notice anything amiss with the Vicompte. He had never had any reason to worry about the boy. And now look what had happened. He noticed that Raoul was watching him expectantly - perhaps fearing one of his famous mood-swings. So instead, he said something which surprised them both.

"I should have been there."

"What?" Raoul asked, shocked.

"I should have been there to stop them. Christine had seemed so worried last night when you weren't home. I should have realised something was amiss and come to find you. This is not a fate you should have to bear. It should not be your burden." Raoul smiled sadly and reached out a hand to the Phantom. At his touch, Erik seemed to calm considerably. He turned to face the boy, and saw his smile.

"Ah, but it is. And there is precious little more that I can do about it than you can about your face. And having earned my own deformity - I hope you don't mind if I boast that I find it to be a greater one than yours is. I should not say such a thing though - that is unjust. It is only that-"

"It is a great shock to suddenly be thus. But I was born how I was. I understand what you mean, Raoul, and you needn't apologise." He brushed a careful hand against the boy's soft cheek, wiping away the silent tears that continued to mar that perfect face. Wait - perfect? Since when was he thinking of the boy in those terms? Erik put it to the back of his mind. That did not matter at present. He could not allow this boy to be hurt any further. He made his choice with confidence.

"I will protect you, young Vicompte, from now on. You belong to me" Raoul sleepily thought that he didn't mind the sound of that at all, and he let himself fall back into the chair, groaning in pain when his back rested against it. He'd forgotten about the lashings. Erik looked up sharply.

"I should probably clean your wounds. All my words won't do any good if you die of an infection or blood loss." Raoul mumbled something under his breath which sounded very much like "I don't care", but Erik elected to ignore it, but inside, his masked heart broke a little. This boy was an innocent - as naive and blameless as Erik had once been as a child, and to hear him disregard his life so flippantly was startling. Erik had a feeling there was more to the story, but he did not want to ask before the boy's wounds were cleaned and he was well on the way to recovery. He did not want to tip the balance of the boy's already unsteady mind. He watched the boy's eyes droop and finally heard the changed breathing pattern which meant he was asleep.

With Raoul unconscious, Erik took the opportunity to assess his condition. There was a large, deep wound which looked like one of the wolves had slowly dug in and raked along the boy's chest. Erik winced at the thought of it. Did the boy scream, he wondered - or did he bear it with quiet resiliance? Raoul's chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Erik hissed in displeasure when he realised he could see a few ribs through all the blood and torn flesh. He only hoped that it hadn't gotten as deep as the boy's lungs. Knife wounds of various depths and lengths littered Raoul's torso. Whoever these people had been, they'd enjoyed playing with him. There were bite marks on his arm - that must have been where they'd held him still. There were many more superficial cuts and scratches, but they were not what caused Erik to frown deeply. He noticed that the boy had used his cravat as some sort of makeshift bandage around his neck. Erik removed it only briefly, to see what he was dealing with. He cursed under his breath. It looked to be that Raoul was not the only one aiming for the throat. Erik grimaced as he imagined how it might have come about. He knew it had to be cleaned and disinfected, but he did not have the heart to wake the boy just yet. Let him rest for now.

Hearing a strangled cry, he looked up at Raoul, who was still asleep, though he seemed to be in the throes of a nightmare. He kept muttering, saying "stop", and "please" amongst other things that Erik could not quite make out. He even heard the boy call his name, and ask to be saved. It broke his heart. Had Raoul called out for him when they'd found him and taken him? Why would he have? What on earth could the boy's fevered dreams be conjuring up?

That settled it. The boy needed treatment - sleep could take a back seat, for now.

"Madame Giry!" He called urgently, wondering just what _she_ might make of the boy's strange ordeal. Once the boy's wounds were treated, he decided, he would look for Nadir. He might know something that could be helpful in resolving the problem at hand. As he waited for Mme. Giry, Erik kept watch to make sure that the rise and fall of Raoul's chest did not stop.

A/N: Well, I hope this isn't too bad, as first chapters go. I realise they may be slightly out of character, but I'm still trying to find my way with this fic. But man I love injured!Raoul and protective!Erik. They're fun to write.

I admit that Lucifer Rosemaunt was my inspiration as far as making Raoul a werewolf is concerned. It just seems like it makes a really interesting dynamic. I've got a few ideas about where I am taking this story. I'm very much toying with the idea of linking it back to Erik's past somehow, but we'll see as the story progresses. not entirely sure how long I'm planning on making this fic, and it probably won't be updated all that regularly.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Sorry for taking a while with this, uni is keeping me busy. A shorter chapter this time because if this was as long as I'd planned for it to be I would have taken forever to write it. I have got the entire thing written in my notebook, it's just typing it up and ironing it out that needs to be done._

_But on the bright side, my bus journeys to uni have been super productive and I've written or at least started two or three more fics featuring these two. Helps that I got new pens and notebooks. I'm totally just procrastinating on uni essays by writing fanfic. I'm terrible, but who cares._

Madame Giry, to her great credit, did not ask what Erik had done to the boy, but merely what had happened to the poor Vicompte de Chagny. She rushed over to him and brushed a wisp of his fair hair from his pale face, looking up to Erik as she awaited an answer. Erik flicked his gaze in her direction briefly before he replied.

"Far too much. And truly, it is not my place to tell. But of anyone he could possibly have sought out, Antoinette, he came to _me_, the Opera Ghost, the detested Phantom. He came down here, my good Madame, asking for death." He held up a hand when he sensed she was about to interrupt him, "And I mean that literally. He kept asking me to kill him. Pleading, begging me! Poor, pathetic little boy! Poor child! Does this tell you enough of how much he must have suffered, Mme. Giry? That he has earned even the Phantom's pity?" Erik was satisfied to see that for once, at least, Mme. Giry had been rendered speechless. She would ask him no more questions. She hurried to get the supplies that Erik would need to tend to the Vicompte.

"There is laudanum in the bottom right drawer over there. From the looks of him, he'll be in desperate need of it." Erik nodded and followed her instructions, digging out a spoon from one of the other drawers. Reluctantly, he shook Raoul awake. The boy was dazed and disorientated, but remembered himself quickly enough, depressed resignation evident in his expression.

"I suppose it was too much to ask for this all to have just been a terrible, hideous nightmare, wasn't it? What I wouldn't give for this to have been a dream, and to wake to find that the sun was shining and the birds were singing. Oh! But daylight is forever dead to me now." At this, Erik placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

"Hush now, boy, and take this, would you?" He poured the dosage onto the spoon and held it out towards Raoul, as if he were only a little child. Raoul eyed the substance suspiciously.

"And what is it?" He asked, his voice trembling just a little more than he'd like. Erik held back a small smile.

"For all that talk of how you longed for death, you seem awfully afraid of my poisoning you."

"It is a painful and slow way to die."

"And you sound like you know this?" Erik raised his eyebrow in casual curiosity.

"Ah, well, we had a cook that had a vendetta. The meal was supposed to be Phillipe's. She liked me though, so gave me the antidote. I still visit her sometimes."

"Well, that's enough stalling. Drink it. It tastes awful, but I promise it will help with the pain." Nodding, Raoul opened his mouth and let Erik administer the dose. Grimacing, he swallowed the foul mixture.

"I sent Mme. Giry for some supplies. I'm going to clean and bandage your wounds - alright?" Raoul nodded, but he shrank back into the chair. Erik frowned - had he somehow frightened the boy?

"Vicom- Raoul. Am I somehow making you uncomfortable? Would you prefer if Mme. Giry attended to you instead?" Raoul's eyes shot up to the Phantom and he shook his head violently - which turned out to be a terrible idea since he aggravated his neck injury.

"No..." He whispered.

"Alright, shhh. When what is the matter, child?"

"I... I'm so scared." Erik sighed and made to turn away, but Raoul caught him by the shirtsleeve. "Not... not you. Others. Of... _them_. Monsters, everywhere. Can't run. Just want them to leave me alone. But stay. Don't... don't leave me. I'm falling apart and I can't face this by myself."

Before Erik could think of any way he could possibly respond to this, Mme. Giry arrived with the bandages and some warm water, as well as cleaning alcohol and some cloths.

"Thank you, Mme. Giry." Raoul managed to whisper. She looked at him quizzically, and was about to question him, when Erik intervened.

"Please, Madame - an interrogation is the last thing that he needs right now. You will only distress him further." With one last look at them both, Mme. Giry begrudgingly nodded, and, picking up her skirts, turned and left.

Raoul's eyes felt heavy, and though he tried, it felt impossible to keep them open.

"I'm sorry for this, Raoul, truly - but this is going to hurt." Erik warned. Raoul nodded sleepily.

"I doubt it will hurt as much as when they were inflicted. Besides, what is pain to me now? I deserve it." Sighing, Erik shook his head sadly.

"I am going to pretend that is the laudanum and not your destroyed self-worth talking." Erik drenched a cloth in the alcohol, and gently began to press it against Raoul's injuries. He started with the claw marks which raked across the boy's chest. Despite his words, Raoul desperately tried to writhe away from the stinging that the alcohol caused. Though Erik felt terrible at having to do so, he held the boy down. He worked as quickly and as gently as he could, cleaning all the wounds on his torso and bandaging him expertly, stitching the ones across his chest before he did so, and putting a salve on the welts on his back. God knows he'd had enough practice with his own injuries in the past. After all this, the boy was completely exhausted, but there was still the matter of his neck injury to be dealt with. Now that he could see it properly, Erik could see that it was worse than he'd originally thought. The skin, attached to a clump of flesh, was only attached to the rest of his neck by the congealing blood. Erik used all the nimbleness of his hands to avoid causing any unnecessary pain to the boy, but it did need to be stitched. Thankfully, Raoul was beyond struggling now, simply having no energy. Erik tried not to think about the fact that if this would had been any deeper, Raoul would never have gotten away alive. He would have choked slowly on his own blood as suffocation and blood loss fought to be the ultimate cause of his demise. Raoul whimpered just as Erik fixed the final bandages into place.

"Hush now, child. It's over and done with now. Rest, rest well, little angel." Relaxing, the boy's head fell limply back against the chair, sleeping or unconscious, Erik was not entirely sure which. But he hoped, at the very least, he would be free of the dreams for now.

Erik stood from where he had been crouching next to the boy and stretched. The chair would not be a good place for the boy to sleep. But where to put him? Not the coffin, obviously. The boy did not need to be even more traumatised. But that left only... _her_ room. Erik nodded to himself - that would have to do. Carefully, he placed his arms around Raoul, and carried him like a helpless damsel, careful not to jostle him in any way that might cause him any unnecessary pain. Erik sighed - the boy really was as light as a feather - did he ever eat anything at all? He made a note to himself that he would make sure the boy ate healthily under his care. He put one of his own shirts on Raoul, marvelling at how snugly it fit. _Perhaps we are truly not that different, vicompte._ If he ignored the ragged breaths and the face that was far too pale, he could almost think the boy looked peaceful.

Just at that moment, Mme. Giry's voice rang through the lair. "Erik!" She called, searching for him.

"Through here," He replied. He noticed her well concealed start of surprise when she saw which room Raoul had been laid in. "It was the only suitable place for him to rest comfortably" He said by way of explanation. She nodded, still not quite over her confusion, though she recovered herself with haste.

"Mlle. Daae is... concerned for her fiancé. She thinks that you had something to do with it. I tried to explain as best I could, but I do not think she believed me. She means to come down here, Erik." The phantom felt himself growl in annoyance, when once he would have been beyond thrilled that she would come here of her own volition.

"She must not come here. The boy... he's much too weak at the moment. I fear what his reaction might be - it will not be good for him. He is too delicate to deal with that woman. It will hinder his recovery greatly, and put far too much stress on him. He lost a lot of blood and his heart is already overtaxed from that..."

"She will not believe me, Erik. I have _tried_ to talk to her, but once she gets an idea in her head, there's no shaking her from it."

"Except by hard, ugly proof" Erik chuckled humourlessly. "I will write to her. Watch over the boy, would you? I fear I might be becoming fond of him. Wipe his brow with this-" he instructed, handing a wet cloth to the ballet mistress, "he's got the beginnings of a fever. I only hope that nothing's infected"

She watched after him, her face dark with something between worry and extreme puzzlement. She turned and crouched over the boy on the bed, who tossed weakly, murmuring things under his breath that she could not hear, and she was not sure she wanted to know what he was saying. Erik had done wonders tending to his wounds, but... there were just so _many_. She dabbed his forehead gently, and he seemed to relax a bit. Mme. Giry was slightly relieved, but only for a moment, as he had gone entirely too still.


End file.
